Tales Of The Asylum
by Rod
Summary: A collection of tales from those in the asylum. Brief looks at people who have been sent here. R/R.


"La-La-La-La-la..."  
  
Twitch.  
  
" La-La-La-La-la..."  
  
Twinge.  
  
" La-LA-LA-LA-LA!!"  
  
Slam.   
  
A plate of food went soaring across the table.  
  
Crash.  
  
The plate shattered against the floor.  
  
All the heads turned to face the man, who apparently just had a sudden outburst. Through gritted teeth, the man stood there, in his   
  
asylum pajamas. Azure eyes stared around, before he let out a grunt, and sat back down. Immediatly the cafiteria went back to its prior   
  
state, a zoo. His shoulders hunched, as he buried his head into his hands.  
  
*"Hello. I'm Seto Kaiba, and I want all of you to fuck off because there is nothing wrong with me. " Immediatly Seto headed to   
  
walked off, only to be stopped by a juggernaut security guard.*  
  
"MENTOS!!" screamed a voice in the backround, as the seventeen year old tried to to block all the other voices from his hearing.   
  
" THE FRESHMAKER!! "  
  
Mokuba could be considered the reason why I'm stuck here. This filthy place. Although I love my brother with the veloscity of   
  
a thousand moons, and my brother seemed only to be worried about me, sending me to an asylum might be alittle too far.  
  
Like hell it was alittle. All because I worked countless hours, day and night, barely having enough time for anything else other   
  
then work, doesn't mean I'm insane and obsessive compulsive. I need to work so he can take care of Mokuba. To feed him.  
  
To make him live. Although, it seems that Mokuba doesn't appreciate that fact, after watching the Opra show about insane   
  
people and love. He didn't feel loved by me, and thought I was insane because I worked?  
  
Damn little brat.  
  
I can imagine the stupid dog boy, Jounouchi, now. " AHAHA! KAIBA'S IN A ASYLUM!?!!?! BWUAHAHA!!!! "  
  
Twitch.  
  
Pretty soon, that stupid doctor will come in and take me to his office. His freakishly designed office, of doom.   
  
Why? Hell if I knew. Usually we go in there to talk. Even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with me.  
  
I was never found with a knife pressed against my wrist.  
  
Ever. I like my overworked life. I bet this damned doctor thinks I'm antisocial or something. Maybe if he had a real job,   
  
he'd know how stressful life could be. Although I doubt it would happen. But I never wanted to commit suicide. It's completely  
  
sickening on how these people jump to conclusions and say you have forty thousand different types of personality and mental disorders.   
  
Which I don't.  
  
* "Seto, how would you explain your working life?"The doctor asked curiously, peering at me from over his notepad.  
  
" I get up. At five o'clock in the morning I might add, only to be bombarded by paperwork. By the time I finish the paperwork, it gives me a   
  
chance to get a cup of coffee from the Starbucks. I might add that I get home at four AM. I only sleep for a half an hour you see, so I  
  
can be showered and dressed by five. Anyway, the coffee. By the time I have my coffee, it is time for school, but I miss that because of the  
  
hundreds of paperwork files I need to complete by the date given, usually an hour from then. Lets not forget the fact I have to complete   
  
the mounds of schoolwork. Take note that I'm doing all this in a limo, but it doesn't make me anymore comfortable. By the time I finish that,   
  
I'm at the office. Where I usually have some stupid american secretary, and I need to sound out everything I say, dispite the fact I can speak   
  
english. That takes up fifteen minutes. ... .. In short, I do more then you do in a living. "   
  
" When do you see Mokuba? "  
  
" Who? " *  
  
People around here are more insane then me. And think, how much money is being sucked away from my account to stay in   
  
this trash heap? Listen. There is a man here, who killed a doctor with a spoon. A plastic spoon.  
  
The thing is, this guy hasn't moved in the past couple years. They turned around for a moment, and this man pounced on one   
  
of the doctors and gorged out his neck. With a plastic spoon.  
  
Once you think about it, it takes some skill.  
  
  
  
That guy is still here, you know. He's watching, and waiting. You know, maybe I should kill some people. If he can get away with it,  
  
I can too. I could be the 'King Of the Asylum'. Some strange quasi-Yuzuka relationship. Heh-heh.  
  
I leaned back in my chair, propping my feet up. Holding a plastic spoon in my hand, I smirked lightly as a doctor called out my name,   
  
Seto Kaiba. Getting out of the chair, I tucked the spoon into my back pocket, and followed the doctor out.  
  
(*tales of the asylum*) A Quasi Yuzuka Relationship.   
  
by:rod  
  
other: I dun own anything, except maybe some original charries. 


End file.
